Village of Stone (Part 2)
by Aereal
Summary: Continuation of Village of Stone, started by Once Upon a Faerytale... Will Karigan manage to escape the caretakers? Will King Zachary successfully get rid of Estora, or will his actions lead the country to civil war? Will Estral be able to get her voice back? And what of Mornhavon, and the breach in the wall that continues to threaten Sacoridia? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a continuation of "Village of Stone", a fic started by Once Upon a Faerytale, and now continued by Aereal, who decided it was unthinkable to leave Karigan stuck in a nasty situation, so... the story continues =)

Enjoy! 

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Village of Stone, chapter 6

Karigan awoke with a start, instinctively trying to sit up but a sharp pain shot up her arm and she gave up with a groan. She focussed on the gloomy stone above her in an effort to focus her thoughts, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown as if to physically force her thoughts into shape.

She had been in the middle of a dream, but it was important somehow, a dream that felt so familiar but… she didn't think she had actually dreamt it before. She grimaced and forced herself to try to remember it, but it was falling through her mind like water through a sieve, like water upon stone…

Stone. That was it. She had clung to her stone-grey trews, her hands by her side, clenching the coarse fabric. Around her stood a crowd of the other caretakers of the village, their expressions stony. Not with the granite-like strength she saw in Fastion's face. Pale and empty-eyed. Their averted faces were loud in their silent condemnation. Her eyes darted back to the object in front of the group, the carved likeness of Queen Estora. She could not tell how long they stood silently like this. Then she glimpsed a flash of movement to one side, and King Zachary appeared, pushing his way through the colourless crowd, dark tendrils coiling around him like smoke and then dissipating. Her heart sank like a pebble. He had come to visit his beloved Estora's tomb. But she realised his gaze was focussed on _her_, not the tomb, and he reached out towards her with a cry. Suddenly Agemon next to her grabbed her wrist in a vice-like grip; he hissed in her ear "If you try to leave, both of you will die". No, she couldn't let her beloved Zachary die. She would rather stay down here forever. She stepped back, her eyes blank. _I can't leave now, I never was yours anyway…_She hoped that would make him leave, hurt him enough to send him safely away.

But no – he was pushing his way past the stone tomb, and continued making his way towards her, elbowing roughly through the crowd; it seemed to take him a great effort, as if some invisible force and not merely the people's bodies barred the way. Finally he broke through to her. He was so close now; he lifted his hand and hesitantly touched her face. Lightly, reverently. _I won't give up, Kari. I will find a way. I will find you. _Her heart leapt in her chest. And then the brightness exploded.

That must have been when she woke up.

But what did it all mean, if anything? She lay there staring at the stone ceiling above her, but no answers came. Her head hurt, and as she came to realise that, she then realised that the rest of her hurt too. She let her eyes close again, exhausted from trying to make sense of it all. After a while she gave up and decided it must be a product of her overactive imagination, of the stress of everything that had happened and being away from home and loved ones for so long, and of her wishing for things that could never be. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she pushed the dream angrily out of her mind, before gingerly rolling onto the side with the undamaged leg and drifting back to sleep.

It could have been hours or minutes later when she heard Brandin come limping into the room, addressing his older son over his shoulder. "—and the other herb stock needs to be checked and the stores replenished, tell Martra that she can—", he broke off as he saw Karigan watching him. "Ahh you're awake", he smiled at her. The healer's voice was gentle and soothing, and he moved to help her get comfortable as she sat up. "There now, let's just check on these bandages, shall we," – she winced as he peeled back the covering on her thigh. "This wound is healing a little slower than I had hoped, probably because of your over-exertion yesterday, but luckily there is no sign of infection, and I daresay it will knit together best if you don't walk on it for a couple of days. So, bed rest for you, Caretaker." She grit her teeth as he continued prodding cheerfully at the various bruises and lacerations on her legs, torso and arms. She couldn't be stuck in this room – she needed to find her way around, to see how things worked down here, so she could plan her escape. Her eyes smarted with tears as he reached her wrist, gently undoing the bandages. "This wrist here is healing as well as can be hoped, I'll just replace the bandages again, a little tighter this time to aid with the compression, and then I must keep going. Madden will be in shortly with your firstmeal, and then perhaps Martra can lend you one of her books on Queen Isen to keep you occupied."

He nodded in satisfaction as he secured the cloth holding her splint in place, and waved his finger at her in warning. "Now stay put, you hear—if you want to get better you must stay in bed". She said nothing but he seemed satisfied that she had got the message, and he turned and went out again, the corners of his long apron flapping at his ankles as he went.

Karigan frowned at his retreating back. She could hear him talking to Martra as he went down towards the storeroom, and she caught the words "expedition" and "supplies", but then they moved further away and out of hearing range. Her curiosity got the better of her – but she needed to be closer. Gingerly she grabbed her bad leg with her good hand (not that any part of her was _good_, exactly), swinging it off the bed and then moving her other leg down so both feet touched the floor. Once upright it was only a half-dozen quick steps to the door, clutching at the side table on the way as she wobbled precariously. She reached the doorway, forcing herself to breathe quietly and listen.

Ah, that was better. She could hear the voices now, Martra's voice saying something about "such a long way to the village" and his deeper reply about travelling more quickly with only half a dozen of them going this time. "…can watch your patients but are you sure it will be only a few hours", was his wife's reply, and then came Brandin's voice again, reassuring her "Agemon is certain that…" – his voice became softer and Karigan strained to hear –"but it will be the last time we go. We cannot risk any further disturbance—"

Suddenly a young boy appeared in the doorway, causing Karigan to jump back painfully, and the boy to start in fright and nearly drop the tray he was carrying. "Sorry miss", he said, recovering himself and smiling shyly. "Didn't mean to frighten you but I wasn't expecting, I mean, father said you would be in bed."

Karigan forced herself to smile back, despite her hammering heart and the throbbing pain now coming from her leg again. "That's okay Madden, let's forget about it alright?" The boy nodded eagerly, following after her as she shuffled back to the bed and sat down, placing her legs out flat and leaning against the wall. He was about 10 years old she guessed, about the same age as Iris, but more well-built than most of the children she had seen in the village, who tended to be thin and pale like their parents. She supposed there wasn't much room for running about down here, and there were none of the wonders of nature to entice them to frolic about as most young children did.

Madden carefully placed the tray on her lap once she was settled. She could tell he had had careful instructions from his father not to disturb the new patient, but his bright eyes held a curiosity that no one else in the village bothered – or dared – to show.

She smiled at him in thanks, then bent her head to survey the contents half-heartedly. There was some sort of coarse bread, a cup of milk and a couple of slices of cured ham. Even the food down here made her feel dull and restless. After a few moments staring at the food, she realised Madden was still looking at her, now somewhat thoughtfully. She smiled at him encouragingly, wondering if he wanted to tell her something, but suddenly he turned and ran out of the room. Karigan shrugged to herself and turned back to the tray, picking up the bread and holding it up to the dim lamp-light suspiciously. Perhaps the boy was shy around strangers. She took a small nibble of the bread. It was hard and rather bland but not too much worse than some of the travel rations she had experienced.

That made her think back to the conversation she had overheard between the healer and his wife, something about rations, and a journey that he was going on, and visiting a village. That last part didn't make any sense to her; as far as she knew all the caretakers lived in one village, which unfortunately was where she was stuck. And not wanting a disturbance. She scowled to herself. Just more things to think over that didn't make sense, although the last part could possibly refer to her. She didn't _want_ to cause a disturbance though, she wanted to slip out unnoticed. However that was virtually impossible in such a confined space, with the healer and his family nearby, let alone the confusing maze-like arrangement of the village, should she manage to actually get out unseen.

She sighed to herself and moved the tray to the side table before drifting back to sleep.

She awoke again with a jolt some time later and opened her eyes cautiously, unsure of what had caused her to wake. As she stretched minutely she realised there were strange sounds coming in from outside the walls of the healer's home. Strange sounds for down here, but she recognised them from her childhood in Corsa, when she used to run off down to the wharves and soak in the kaleidoscope of sights and sounds – boats big and small, burly sailors and ladies in bonnets, rag-tag children that ran in and out of the crowds, strapping lads with barrows of produce, calling people to come and buy. Every now again there would be trouble (part of the reason her father and aunts tried unsuccessfully to keep her from going there alone), either a fight between some ship's crew in varying states of intoxication, or a scrap between a few of the dirty street boys bored of picking the pockets of passers-by. This was the sound that reached her ears now – the jeering and shouting of several boys, and a few echoing slaps and thuds, then whimpering. The voices continued for a short time before a man's voice could be heard, ordering them to stop and go home. The whimpering came closer though, until it was right outside her room, and she realised it must be one of the healer's boys.

"Maddon?" she called gently, guessing it would be the older boy. She heard a loud sniff and then he entered the room, his face blotchy and one eye turning a nasty shade of purple. "What happened to you?"

He lifted his chin, looking resolute. "The older boys from the village, they were… teasing, miss, they said you were brainless to want to go back above, that you were only with the black shields before because they took pity on you, and that Father should not be wasting time healing you. They—they were daring each other to steal your sword so they could play with it. I told them they were wrong and that it's bad to steal, and that you are a hero and very pretty and brave. I think I broke Jibb's nose," he finished with a proud grin, seeming to forget his earlier discomfort.

She held his gaze, pondering this. The childish jibes did not hurt, but the healer did not seem to be one to gossip about his patients so she wondered how they knew about her, and about the sword.

After a moment she returned his grin. "Thanks for coming to my defence, hey?" He blushed scarlet. "And you don't think I'm brainless?" The boy shook his head and stepped closer. "I wish I could go up above too," he confessed in a whisper. "But we're not allowed to even talk about it, or ask questions… If I said it to anyone they would think I was mad too, and father would give me a right hiding."

She looked at him speculatively. This was what she needed – an ally. "Maddon, you know you can trust me, right?" He nodded slowly, despite having revealed his secret to her. "You know I need to get out of here, to get back to report to the King, and get my wrist"—she held up the rough splint for him to see—" healed properly with magic?" He nodded with more certainty this time. "I need your help Maddon, do you think you can help me? I promise not to tell anyone what you said. And I think I can help you in return."

He looked at once nervous and excited and moved closer, his light brown mop of hair falling forward over his eyes. "But—don't you have special magic powers?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Iris said—" he trailed off. Ah yes, she had forgotten for the moment about Iris, who would probably know about her broach, and her ability to disappear. Suddenly realised she had not even thought once about her broach; in pondering her dire situation she had completely forgotten it. Raising one hand to her shirt she realised it was missing, gone along with her clothes.

She took a deep breath and tried to assess the situation. She didn't know if she could trust this boy completely, but surely things could not get any worse, and she didn't have much time before her wrist would heal the wrong way and render her right hand useless. It also seemed to be the perfect opportunity to escape the healer's house, while he was gone, and his wife somewhat preoccupied with the other patients; she may not get another chance like this.

"Maddon, it's true I do have some magical ability. But for it to work I need my things back, and then I need your help—perhaps Iris can help too—to get to the outskirts of the settlement, and point me to the right corridor. If you can do this for me, I will promise to get the King to talk to Agemon, and persuade him to let you come visit us up above."

The boy's face positively glowed, and he nodded eagerly. "Ok," she said smiling at his enthusiasm. "This is what we need to do…"

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	2. Chapter 2

**I had this chapter mostly done so I wanted to finish and post it before I disappear for a while… **

**Thanks to Owlkin, for editing and generally chatting. And to everyone reviewed, including "A", whoever you are.**

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**The story so far (continued from Part 1) : A badly injured Karigan was found by the caretakers in the Queen's tomb, and Agemon decided she must stay down there for good this time. At the D'Yer wall, Alton and Estral have decided to lead a small party into the forest to recover her voice. Meanwhile in the castle, King Zachary is using his political wiles to force Estora into agreeing to annul the marriage, in the hope that Karigan will be found some day.**

**Now to see what happens for Karigan… can she escape? Or will her plans be foiled…**

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**Chapter 7**

Karigan limped forward the last few steps to the corner, vainly trying to mute the sound of her footsteps on the cool stone. In the corridor around to her right she could see the party gathered, dimly lit by the flickering lanterns they carried. Her sabre slapped against her thigh from the makeshift belt. Miraculously her Blackveil uniform had been washed and mended as far as possible, given its tattered state, rather than being disposed of, and Maddon had also been able to give her back her broach, which was now pinned firmly in place, and her moonstone was securely in her pocket.

Turning back to the smaller passageway they had come down, she could see Iris' grey-green eyes and Maddon's large brown gaze glimmering in the darkness behind her. Impulsively she reached out and put her arm around Iris' shoulders, hugging the slim girl to her side, and then released her to grasp Maddon's hand. The boy smiled bashfully, looking all at once sad and hopeful, and she couldn't help but smile back. She gave his hand a final squeeze, to reassure him that she remembered her end of the bargain, then gave them both a gentle push back in the direction of their village and a small wave as they set off.

She had already thanked them for their assistance, and had told them firmly to go straight back home, hoping they wouldn't get into any trouble for helping her. There would undoubtedly be a fuss once it was discovered she was gone, but with Agemon and Brandin both going on this expedition it should be a while before that happened, and with any luck no-one would link the whereabouts of the two children to her escape.

She sighed, and forced herself to turn forward again and focus her thoughts. She couldn't afford to make a mistake—this could be her only chance to escape being stuck underground permanently.

The men were still standing in a group, a stone's throw down the corridor, talking quietly. She counted seven of them: Brandin and Agemon; two short, wiry looking fellows who were probably brothers; a wrinkled, stooped man who looked even older than Agemon; a young man with the same pinched face and pale eyes; and lastly a solidly built man whose face was hidden under a large hood.

This corridor was wider, big enough for all seven men to stand in a loose circle. It was smooth and the ceiling high, but had no ornate sconces set in the walls or any sign of the ante-chambers that were located along the important corridors like the Avenue of Heroes. Karigan gathered it was one of the main caretakers' routes, which as far as she could remember ran parallel to each of the Avenues, allowing the caretakers to move coffins and tomb stones without disturbing the dead.

She shivered slightly, but not from cold. If she could follow the caretakers, they should lead her into one of the areas where the Weapons patrolled. But if she lost sight of the party for some reason… the tunnels through the tombs were long and dark with many branching turns; she would easily be lost for long enough to starve to death. That would be a cruel irony indeed—to have been rescued from the arms of Westrion, only to end up with him again in the attempt to escape from her rescuers.

The men finally finished talking and a few gathered large sacks onto their back; Brandin and one other still held lanterns aloft. Agemon moved to take the lead, and the rest followed quietly. Karigan waited for the lights to move a little further ahead, and then followed cautiously.

Gods, she had not fully felt the pain before, what with following Iris and Maddon, and her attention focused on leaving the village unseen. But now every step she took caused her to grit her teeth. The throbbing pain in her left thigh was worsening, and seemed to be echoed by the pain in her right wrist. Somehow she had not realised that her right ankle seemed to be injured, probably sprained, as well as every muscle screaming in her legs, and several shallow cuts on her arms had started to open up again in the effort to get this far. She expelled a large breath as silently as she could and instantly regretted it; from the feel of the stabbing pain in her abdomen she also had some broken ribs. She felt she was perilously weak as well, although whether from blood loss or simply her body trying to recover, she didn't know. It was all she could do to force herself to continue walking, a strange sense of déjà vu coming over her, although she was walking down dark tunnels now instead of through a dark forest.

She had decided not to use her broach for now—the darkness should be enough to hide her, and she couldn't afford to waste precious energy if she didn't need to.

The men turned another corner, and another, quickening their pace. Time itself seemed to stretch and warp as Karigan shuffled quietly after them. They continued down this new corridor for a long time, and then Karigan lost count as they began to turn off down various corridors left, then right, right again, then the path forked and they went left. Twice she nearly lost them; but managed to catch sight of the bobbing lanterns just in time. Each corridor was the same size, their footfalls marking a steady muffled beat on the dirt floor, and no markings to distinguish one stretch of wall from another.

Finally they reached a narrower passageway that seemed to stretch on and on forever, Karigan's eyes threatening to drift closed as the undulating movement of the lights swayed hypnotically before her. Her legs had started to turn numb, for which she was grateful but some small corner of her mind registered that this was not at all a good sign. Her breathing was steady; luckily the rapid pace the Eletians had set through the forest had kept her rather fit, but her ribs were now burning with a dull ache and every now and again a tingling sensation shot down one arm.

Suddenly they turned again, and she had to stop so suddenly she nearly fell backwards, for the party had stopped just around the corner, and the corridor they now entered was brightly lit with torches. She backed away further around the corner.

This appeared to be an intersection of three different tunnels, and so the end of the wall formed a sharp angle between herself and the men; with her back to the wall they were now directly behind her, on the other side of the wall. She bit down hard on one hand to muffle her cry as she sank down to the floor, exhausted. She was momentarily nonplussed as to which part of her hurt the most; she settled for placing her good hand on her thigh, where blood was seeping though the bandages.

The men appeared to be arguing. She realised as she listened to them that she had followed them without really worrying about what their goal was, only caring that they were travelling far away from the caretaker's village. Now as they talked, she began to realise it was something more significant that she could have possibly imagined.

"Agemon, if young Gideon had not returned to collect the chisels he left behind, and got lost coming back, we may never have found it." This was followed by a few mutters of agreement from the group. "That may be true," replied the reedy voice of the head Caretaker, "but we cannot risk the wrath of the Gods!" Again more mutters. "But respectfully," the first voice persisted, "what are our promises to Westrion if we do not protect our kingdom?" There was silence for a few moments. Karigan strained to hear the next voice. "We cannot risk their wrath! We have sworn to watch and protect the dead, not leave our duties to seek out some fabled city! The Kmaernian _Village of Stone_ is but a myth, a story to lure young 'uns into the tunnels to their death!"

The youthful voice of the prentice piped up eagerly. "But, what if it's true? Maybe Westrion led Gideon to the end of that tunnel, like the end of the earth, and beyond it that great chamber, containing a whole stone village… what if it really does hold the secrets to their magic stone work? Wouldn't that help us to build our village too?" "Fool of a boy", spat Agemon. "The meddlers up above will want their magic secrets to stop the Black One, or whoever next threatens their plans. They will come tramping through the tombs and doom will come upon us all."

Karigan couldn't believe her ears. They had found something that could possibly hold the key to saving Sacoridia from the return of Mornhavon, surely it was their duty to tell the King, to protect him in life as well as in death? She grit her teeth; these men were unbelievable, couldn't they see past their ridiculous notions to what was obviously the right thing to do? She felt exhausted beyond anything she had ever felt before; exhausted not just in body but in spirit. She had risked her life so many times, seen friends die, honoured those who died before her time, all in the pursuit of duty. She felt like the safety of the kingdom was always just out of reach, dangling on a string in front of her like a tempting piece of chocolate before being whisked cruelly away. So close. But so far. She could not reveal herself, or Agemon would surely haul her off back to his village and lock her up permanently.

Rousing herself from her thoughts, she realised the men had stopped talking and moved off down the passageway, presumably to have a look at this Village. She managed to slowly get to her feet, wiggling her toes as her muscles cramped painfully. Peeping around the corner, she could see the lantern-lights receding into the distance. She watched for a few more moments, to be sure they would not turn around, and then carefully emerged into that passageway and shuffled down it in the opposite direction.

As the lights faded behind her Karigan wondered, certainly not for the first time in her life, if she would make it through the next few hours. But the determination drove her—she had to get news of this discovery to the king. Soon it was completely dark. She walked a little further in the darkness, trailing her left hand along the wall to keep herself from bumping into it. She felt tears prick in her eyes, wondering if this was what it was like for Yates, eyes straining uselessly for light, movements strangely disoriented. Eventually she reached another intersection and felt safe enough to take the moonstone out of her pocket, revelling in its cool, soothing glow.

She was standing at a t-junction, and now needed to choose a path either to the left or right. Raising the moonstone she realised this was one of the large Avenues, with walls covered with painted figures and motifs. That meant she must be close to the outer part of the tombs where the tomb weapons were stationed. Her heart quickened, and she chose to turn left.

After some time limping in this direction, she began to think she may have turned the wrong way, when the ground began to slope ever slightly upwards. For a few moments she thought perhaps she had fallen asleep and was dreaming that the ground tilted to tip her over, but no, the pain in her limbs proved she was awake, and she staggered on with a renewed sense of hope. Some minutes later, she reached a part where the Avenue widened, and a wider area appeared up ahead, with a bench and a small table, where one weapon would be stationed while the others patrolled the passages nearby.

But, just like in so many of her dreams, something was wrong. Badly wrong.

The weapons were gone.

She felt a small sob escape from somewhere inside her, as she just managed to make it to the bench. She collapsed onto the cold wooden surface and slid into unconsciousness.

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Karigan remained unconscious in the neverending darkness, as the shadows outside lengthened. A stray beetle crawled over her boot, bemused at this new thing that had appeared in this domain, and then trundled away into the gloom.

Up above in the world of the living, the King returned to his quarters exhausted, after a mostly successful day. His thoughts strayed to Karigan briefly, never imagining she was so close, and in danger once more.

The Black Shields' celebration was underway, an unsurprisingly sober yet somehow cheerful affair. It would be several hours yet before the final reverences were finished, and the tomb weapons attending were not rostered on until the next day, given the late hour. Eventually they would make their way back to their quarters for a well earned rest before their next duty.

Westrion was amused to see several humans re-entering the domain of the Black One, straying into danger as it seemed they were wont to do. So often these mortals threw away their lives, seemingly so careless, ending up carried into the afterlife by him. Although these two were interesting, there was a touch of magic about them and a stronger, twisted magic nearby, and he watched curiously to see what would come of it. Preoccupied, he did not notice his avatar once more in danger, slipping into dreamless oblivion, her body growing colder as the last of her strength faded.

The passageway remained dark and silent for a long time that passed like an instant in that timeless place.

A white cat appeared at the far end of the passage, nearer to the entrance, turned its lamp-like eyes on the still figure, and prowled away again.

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Fastion walked along beside Brienne as they left the celebration, talking quietly. Both were headed to their rooms for some well-earned rest; Fastion felt his face relax slightly from its usual granite expression. The Samhain Day celebrations had been very successful, and several new Black Shield initiates had been sworn in. More comrades-at-arms, more Brothers, and that made him glad. But for all he carried out his duties with utmost seriousness, he missed his little sister, who made him laugh at himself for the first time. Gods, I miss Karigan, he thought. "Me too," replied Brienne, and he realised he must have spoken out loud. They continued in thoughtful silence as they neared the entrance to the castle, but had to stop suddenly as a white cat appeared in front of them, blocking their path. Unusually for a cat, it regarded them directly for a few moments, making Fastion feel distinctly unsettled. Just as suddenly it appeared to lose interest, raising one paw to lick it thoroughly before walking jauntily in the direction of the tombs.

Fastion and Brienne looked at each other for a moment, and then set off after the strange feline. It was probably just a spoiled castle cat, and Fastion couldn't exactly explain why they were following it, but anything strange should be checked, he thought to himself. The cat picked up speed as it reached the doorway to the tombs, and they had to speed up to keep up, nodding to the weapon on duty as they hurried past.

The cat reached the entrance to the Avenue of the Royals, where the more distant relatives of the Kings and Queens were laid to rest. It sniffed at the air in the corridor, gave a small yawn, and wandered away down an adjoining corridor. Fastion's heartbeat quickened and as one the two weapons crept cautiously down the corridor, mindful of the Second Empire forces and other intruders that they had intercepted down here in the not-too-distant past.

Suddenly Brienne stopped abruptly next to him, and he saw what she was looking at. A small figure slumped against the wall up ahead. He thought it looked like Karigan—but no, must be just wishful thinking, borne of him thinking about her just minutes ago. Both weapons moved swiftly towards the figure, instinctively still checking for danger as they approached. But Westrion's Wings—it _was_ Karigan sitting there, apparently unconscious, dusty and bleeding. He shook his head. How did she manage to do it? Thank goodness they had found her in time, thanks to that mysterious cat... Brienne placed one hand against her shoulder and carefully pushed her upright. Karigan moaned and mumbled something about "the village… tell the king… the wall… magic."

"Shhh", soothed Brienne. She looked to Fastion and he nodded, relieved a woman was there with him. They always knew what to say. "Karigan, we found you, it's ok. You can tell us later, there is time. Time to rest, time to heal, time to tell us everything, time to see the king."

At the mention of Zachary, Fastion's mouth quirked into a smile, breathing a sigh of relief. King Zachary would be very glad his Kari had returned to him.

THE END

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**I'm sorry if this last part seemed rushed—I had planned to make it several chapters longer but as I'm putting my writing on hold for the moment, and I had most of it already written, I wanted to rescue Karigan before I went away ;-)**

**Thanks to everyone for your support and comments along the way.**

I hope that May 2014 comes quickly for all of us, and that everyone has a wonderful Christmas and New Year in the mean time!


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